Fractured Sanity On Hiatus
by poisonous viper
Summary: God, I’m insane. Isabella Swan snorted. The irony of the place and the thought was inevitable. She had everything except her sanity. Will her shrink be able to heal her fractured sanity or will the horrors of the past become the present?


_Hello there! You might recognise this story and that's because it was my cousin's, angelical daredevils, story. Sadly, she had to drop all of her writings because she was relocated to France and her schedule wouldn't allow her frequent writing opportunities. So... I'm taking over. _

_This first chapter is written by her. The following will be written by moi. _

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_**Fractured Sanity**_

_Chapter One: God, I'm Insane!  
_

The rhythmic tapping of Bella's fingertips on the armrest of the couch was barely audible but the stillness of the room magnified the sound to an ear-splitting degree. The light blue walls of the room seem to reverberate every single sound wave in the room. Or so she thought. Maybe the years of excess drinking was catching up to her and making her delusional.

_God, I'm insane._

She snorted humorlessly. The irony of the place and the thought was inevitable. She continued her mindless tapping onto the armrest. If she were that strong, or if she were holding a knife or something sharp, she'd have inflicted severe damage on the unfortunate furniture.

_What's taking Dr. Shea so long?_ She wondered. Dr. Gabriella Shea, a fifty-something-year old plump lady had been her psychologist for two years now but ever had she been late. Yes, her _psychologist,_ or shrink if you'd prefer so bluntly. As much as she hated going to a shrink, she had to. And no matter how good Dr. Healy was to her, she could never deny the fact that the woman was gravely loyal to her step-mother. She hands her a weekly report about her so called progress, for heaven's sake!

More than once, she missed a session, and ironically enough, it was because she was too intoxicated to get up. Her step-mother would either fly to New York or call her in the middle of the night to lecture her about how she was corrupting the ever so magnificent reputation that her father, her grandfather, her great-grandfather and her ancestors to the nth generation had worked so hard to establish, _ipso-_bloody-_facto_.

Shipping her from London to New York was one thing and making her go to a psychologist was most certainly another. Her hatred for her step-mother was increasing exponentially as the second-hand of the clock ticked. Her step-mother was the epitome of a bitch. Ever since her father remarried, which was not even three months after her mother died of a car crash, the bitch had done everything to make her life a living hell. Frankly, she didn't care that the bitch sent her away to New York. She was planning to get away from the place herself. She just hated the fact that her stepmother had beaten her to it.

Bella grunted. She had been waiting for almost thirty minutes but the doctor still hasn't shown up. She decided to just ditch therapy and resume whatever she did when she wasn't in this mental institution so she stood up and headed straight to the door.

_Odd._ She thought. _They didn't have a wall in front of the door_. She had bumped into something, a habit she would have gladly attributed to being stoned but sadly, she _was_ sober at the moment.

"Sorry, I didn't see you coming! I'm meeting a patient and I'm late. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I would be. As soon as you let go of my waist, I think I'm going to be perfectly fine," Bella looked at his eyes. They were hypnotizing orbs—perfect for a psychologist. His face, too, was enticing to be ogled at. And his body… it was a sculpture of a master, hidden beneath his hideous white coat. If he were to be her doctor, she'd gladly go to therapy every single day.

The receptionist came to them and he released her waist as she requested. "Miss Swan, I see you have met Dr. Shea's replacement, sorry for the delay," she smiled apologetically but shot the doctor a glare. _Oh boy, he's in trouble_. Bella thought smugly. Whether the trouble was for being late or for being Bella's new doctor, we wouldn't know…

. . .

"I'm really sorry for making you wait," he said ruefully.

Bella smiled tightly. She had to stop staring at him or else she would need therapy for real.

"So, Dr. Shea says you've been under her for two years. I'm really sorry for the sudden change but Dr. Shea had some health problems."

"It's fine," _More than fine, actually. _ "And you are…."

"I'm sorry. I should have introduced my self first," then he smiled a breathtaking smile. "I'm…"

…

...

...

(a/n: anj wanted me to cut it here but I'm not that evil...)

...

...

"I'm Jasper Hale." He extended his hand towards her.

"It's nice to meet you Dr. Hale." Bella smiled and shook his hand.

"So, let's get started." He smiled once more and pulled out his black clipboard. Bella turned her head away and rolled her eyes. _Oh, joy!_

…

The first session with Dr. Hale reminded her of her first day with Dr. Shea, only she wasn't belligerent this time. She had gotten used to it, so why bother?

Dr. Hale had her narrate why she was there, why she needed therapy. Bella was upfront about it. She told him her story— that her stepmother wanted her in therapy for excessive drinking and occasional drug use.

"Frankly, If I my choices weren't between being locked up in London or getting shipped out to New York and getting therapy, I wouldn't be here right now." She told him. He said nothing but smiled.

She also told him how therapy was pointless and she hadn't stopped drinking and taking drugs. She had never told Dr. Shea about this and the poor ol' doctor didn't seem to notice. She was in control of herself and she knew it.

"Then why are you still here?" He asked, amused and genuinely puzzled. "I would consider you neither an alcoholic nor a drug addict! You don't look like one."

"I've told you before." She said frustrated. "My stepmother would cut off all my funds—my cash, my cards, my house... nada!"

"And she has the power to do that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"My father has," she sighed. "And she has him wrapped around her little finger."

She honestly couldn't understand him. It seemed like he wanted her out of therapy. Not that she complains, but seriously! Her stepmother was paying who-knows-how-much for this therapy and he would just let it slip away. Or maybe he just didn't want to deal with another psychopath. Who knows?

He sighed, too, and ran his finger through his blonde hair. "Tell me, Bella. Why do you do drugs?"

Bella looked away. "I guess you could say it's part of my lifestyle. The alcohol, the drugs, the parties, even the one-night stands —they're incorporated in the world I revolve in."

Dr. Hale leaned in closer. "No, Bella. Why do _you_? I'm not asking about status quo. There has to be a reason other than that. Something _before_ you went to New York."

"I told you—my mother died, my father married a bitch! What more reason do you need to understand where I'm coming from?" She let out a shaky breath and fought back the tears that were starting to form.

"Yes, I need more reason. The one reason you're not telling me." He sank back to his couch. "I _know_ there's something more. Something you've been keeping from Dr. Shea, from me, from everybody! Something you're trying to forget."

"You said so yourself." She said defiantly. "It's something I'm trying to forget. And I don't want to remember it now!"

He reached for her face, wiped off the tears that Bella didn't even notice and said softly, "You don't have to forget it. You just have to let it go."

Bella broke off from his hold. She thought of crying in front of her psychologist, who prolly looked more like of an Abercrombie & Fitch model, as idiotic and foolish. How this stranger had been able to figure her out in just fifty-eight minutes, she didn't have a clue.

Oh right, a PhD in psychology. How could she forget?

"We don't have to do this today." He smiled tentatively. "I just hope I'd be seeing you on Friday after that."

Bella laughed weakly. "Oh, you bet I would. I wouldn't want to see my stepmother at my doorsteps at one in the morning."

"Goodbye, Dr. Hale." With that, she stood up and headed to the door.

"Bella?" She had opened the door already when he called. She turned back to face him. "Don't call me Dr. Hale. It makes me feel old."

She laughed heartily this time. "Okay…?"

"Jasper." He smiled back at her.

"Very well then, goodbye Jasper."

…

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_there! the first chapter's done. I hope you like it. _

_please review. _

_and oh, to give you an incentive to keep on reading and reviewing, i'll keep you wanting for more.._

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_Preview: Chapter Two_

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_She scanned the unfamiliar monochromatic room then began picking up her clothes, more like remnants of them. Whoever she spent the night with was too eager to get her off her clothes that he had to rip the buttons of the low-cut black cardigan that she had been wearing. She quickly dressed and didn't even bother identifying the man she slept with._

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